Now that I agree with.

I was able to read the Santana article in the new GP this evening. It finally got to the magazine rack in my local Hy-Vee. I want to preface what I say by stating categorically that Carlos Santana is one of my all-time favorite guitarists. His first album was one of the most exciting releases of it's time. Nobody had done the thing he was doing quite the way he and that band did it, combining Latin and blues idioms like that. I really loved that record, and still do. I've loved almost all of his music that I've ever heard.

That being said, the article doesn't succeed at what it attempts. Not for any lack on the part of either Mike Molenda or Carlos. I'd say they both did their best. But trying to describe the things they are talking about is like trying to describe the taste of chocolate ice cream. You could say it's cold, wet, sweet, it's brown...but the same is true of refrigerated mud made out of dirt and soda pop. And anyone who has tried them both can tell you there is a BIG difference between the flavors of sugary mud and chocolate ice cream.

The article fails because the things it tries to describe are not describable in words. They are intangible.

But does that really rise to the level of making the topic out-of-bounds or not worth discussing? We do the same thing with tone...one guys "fat" is another guys "mud", one guys "twang" is another guys "thin." The descriptions mean different things to different people but they do mean something to guitar players...it's the lexicon we deal in.

I think being musicians helps us overcome some of those vaporous descriptive hurdles. Yeah, we're definitely not dealing in things that can be clearly defined or experienced the same way, but I think we all know that quasi-religiious, out-of-body experience that accompanies amazing musical performances (whether witnessing it as an audience member or being the musician responsible). Eric Clapton never really blew me away in the same fashion that Jimi Hendrix did, but when I talk to my Clapton-phile buddy about his hero, I get it. I understand because I've been there before.

Same thing with what we experience in ourselves. Even if we can't experience someones inspirations first hand, I'd wager we we all understand what it's like to be inspired, to dig into ourselves and play our butts off. I'd imagine it's something we all think about a lot, even if it's not necessarily in the form of intangibles.

It's definitely a challenge to discuss, but I don't think I'm alone in believing that part of being a good musician is taking on a challenge. I genuinely find it interesting. I also genuinely find some of the non-serious posts hilarious....at the very least I get a good chuckle.

playing from your heart is....the greatest feeling ever. people may not know how to do it...but they all know how it feels. It's like the whole world just falls away....everything goes black. it's just you and the guitar...and the beautiful music that comes forth. every note rings out clear as day...like...like a crystal being struck just right. your body goes numb and...and you can't even feel the guitar...yet you still hear the music...it's like finding nirvana...or finding heaven if you belive in that.
And when you come out of it....you miss it...you miss it so much that tears come forth...so you go back...and you find it. and that's what guitarists like hendrix did. they just escaped into that world so much...to escape the real world and go back to their nirvana...to heaven. if you haven't played from your heart yet...i highly suggest it...it's the greatest feeling in the world...and i want to share it with the world...with those who don't play aninstrument...because they deserve this feeling as much as we do...so please....play from your heart...and share it with the world.

I wrote this in the hopes someone understands what the hell i am talking about...

In January of 2001 I was diagnosed with a brain tumor. It was the beginning of a long journey back to health, during which time I had to face and deal with many emotions at extreme levels. I am convinced that what carried me, and what carries anyone through this process is the realization of balance and trust. The balance comes in part from the fact that fear cannot exist without peace, submissiveness cannot exist without rebellion, and helplessness cannot exist without hope. These emotions are balanced constantly throughout the medical and recuperative process, during which time you trust that science and technology and what-have-you will prevail, yet question everything, every step of the way. Most of this happens at a subconscious level, and happens with tools you don’t even know you have. For me, music is the same. You balance discipline, technique, and technology with spontaneity, inspiration and experimentation. Ultimately, you must let go of the intellect and trust that the tools you’ve acquired throughout your musical journey will conspire to release that which only exists in your heart. Only then does a truly exceptional musical expression happen. When this happens, music serves as the bonding agent of an emotional connection. Whether it is one note or a furious bombardment, neither will last beyond its sonic presence and quality unless an emotional connection is made.

I guess I would have to say that I disagree with almost all of this—sorry...

The idea that a thing cannot exist without its opposite also existing is not true. Clapton has a couple lines in It's In The Way That You Use It, “Nobody’s right till somebody’s wrong; Nobody’s weak till somebody’s strong.” But this is simply no true. It is entirely possible to be right in the absence of someone being wrong.

Weak and strong are relative terms, of course. There is "too weak to do thins or that," and there is comparatively weak, compared with someone stronger, to be sure.

There certainly can be darkness without there being light. Darkness is the absence of light, and you can have the absence of light without there being light, just as you can have an absence of pink clouds without there being a corollary presence of pink clouds.

Fear can certainly exist without peace.
Submissiveness certainly can exist without there being rebellion.

Plus, the concept of balance would seem to carry the connotation that whatever amount of fear there is there is an equal amount of peace. There is no reason to hold that to be the case.

But I also reject the concept of a dichotomy between intellect and heart, at least in the way you have presented it here. That which you are calling "heart" is, in actuality, a facet of intellect. Granted, it is a part of the intellect that is not characterized by the manifest presence of objectivity that seems to be the issue you are spotlighting, but it still comes from within your cranium as an action of your brain.

I just don't see any way for tolls to conspire at all, let alone tools conspiring to release something not in your mind.

We, as musicians, choose from amongst the tools that we have. The process is under our authority. If someone shouts at you "Stop!", they don't have to wait for the tools to be willing to relinquish control. We take the control that we are exerting (sometimes in a less than purely objective fashion), and use it to pay attention to the person shouting at us.

As I write this answer, I am using the keyboard without giving it much thought, because I have good familiarity with the keyboard. I am not thinking very much about spelling, though if I write a word like "receive," I recite to myself every time "‘i’ before ‘e’ excpet after ‘c.’" This is not the tools I have learned operating, but me choosing which tool(s) to use.

I do certainly agree that some are better able to use the tools that they have to create musinc that is memorable, and beautiful. But that is just as some are able to make better use of the arithmetic they learned in school to solve problems, and so get a better grade. In the case of arithmetic, that is called inteligence. In the use of musical tools, it is called talent. But both are mental activities.

Anyway, that's my take.

I am really glad that you survived the medical challenges you faced, and that you have made it back to health. Please don't take my disagreement as anything other than a disagreement.

Thats seems more like a critique of someone than your own take on "intangibles"

I think you're late to the party, this has to do with a contest that GP is running to have people's own take about what "intangibles" mean to them and their playing.

Pepster-
That's seems like interesting and valid reasoning to me.
A very inspirational message.

Your last sentence really rings true for me.

Your right. For some reason the post I critiqued (and you're right, it was) was sitting in the regular questions, with 0 responses. Go Figure...

Sorry for crashing the party like that.

Carlos and Molenda are right on. But they never come outright and say the most plain, simple and practical aspect of dealing with the intangibles of playing music.
Peace with your direction.
I am a jazz guitarist by training.
I've spent years learning standars, scales, understanding the meaning of harmonic super imposition, both in reharmonising and improv, transcribing, and other doing what it takes to become an accomplished jazz musician(ie, reading , metronome etc,)
But all of these things are just language.
words which I use to make sentences.
However, my interests as a player stretch beyond , and most especially the rhythms of the spanish speaking carribean(cuba, Dominican republic and my home puerto rico) and not just that as I have a keen interest in reggae and most other musics as well.
when playing in these contexts i still use the same "words" (chords, scales, arpeggios, octaves, etc) to create my sentences.
I am not saying that I play jazz licks against reggae grooves, but since I am at peace with my "jazz" roots I can contribute musically to a situation if I am listening.
and that is what the article never says bluntly(though hints at it numerous times) serve the situation.
Don't shred on a ballad,
don't swing when symphony #9,
if a player is listening, really listeng then that player isn't even using their hands,
that player is playing with there ears
accessing the invisible world of vibration.
And that vibration , the use of invisibility can take a player, in a musical moment, directly to their own heart and hence forth access the "intangibles" that , as Carlos says, are inherently present within each person.
Letting go of what we want to do
and doing what is best for the situation is a key to harmony in life,
not just music.

Carlos and Molenda are right on. But they never come outright and say the most plain, simple and practical aspect of dealing with the intangibles of playing music.
Peace with your direction.
I am a jazz guitarist by training.
I've spent years learning standars, scales, understanding the meaning of harmonic super imposition, both in reharmonising and improv, transcribing, and other doing what it takes to become an accomplished jazz musician(ie, reading , metronome etc,)
But all of these things are just language.
words which I use to make sentences.
However, my interests as a player stretch beyond , and most especially the rhythms of the spanish speaking carribean(cuba, Dominican republic and my home puerto rico) and not just that as I have a keen interest in reggae and most other musics as well.
when playing in these contexts i still use the same "words" (chords, scales, arpeggios, octaves, etc) to create my sentences.
I am not saying that I play jazz licks against reggae grooves, but since I am at peace with my "jazz" roots I can contribute musically to a situation if I am listening.
and that is what the article never says bluntly(though hints at it numerous times) serve the situation.
Don't shred on a ballad,
don't swing when symphony #9,
if a player is listening, really listeng then that player isn't even using their hands,
that player is playing with there ears
accessing the invisible world of vibration.
And that vibration , the use of invisibility can take a player, in a musical moment, directly to their own heart and hence forth access the "intangibles" that , as Carlos says, are inherently present within each person.
Letting go of what we want to do
and doing what is best for the situation is a key to harmony in life,
not just music.

I was inspired to comment to a sales rep at Guitar Center one day, while looking at a wall of Les Pauls, “If I could play in a way that gave others the feeling I get when I look at a guitar, my career would be set.”

I purely am guitarded. I love the way they look, I love the way the sound (usually), I love the way they feel.

I have a tendency to want to share what I feel with those around me, whether something that has struck me amusing, or odd, or good.

When I perform on guitar I try to transmit my enthusiasm and love of the instrument to others. I seem to be able to do that fairly well.

But sometimes, i get caght up in the moment, and I am just feeding on that enthusiasm for the instrument, the tone, the moment. Time seems to become a word without meaning.

I had this glass globe, about 10" in diameter, with an orchind blossom and a honey be in it, suspended in some kind of gel. (It vibrated a little if you bumped it with the palm of your hand.) That bee was suspended about an inch from the flower, inbound, ever approaching its goal, but never getting there. there was beauty in the approach. When I reach one of those moments where I get caught up, it has a feeling like that bee constantly in the process of reaching the goal. It is almost like standing on the edge of a cliff—right at the edge—and leaning over the edge 45º, but being held from falling by the wind coming toward the cliff. The scene is static, in thension, but the process is highly energetic and dynamic. Those moments seem that way, too.

Better?

At the heart of the spiritual tradition of every culture lies an element of mysticism. I think wikipedia has a great definition of mysticism, so let me repeat it here:

"[Mysticism is] the pursuit of communion with, identity with, or conscious awareness of an ultimate reality, divinity, spiritual truth, or God through direct experience, intuition, or insight."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mysticism

It's a personal experience of the ultimate nature of reality; reality that stands outside of the ordinary world, outside of time, or any category we can conceive. As such, it can't be described with words, because words don't directly hit the part of our brains that can grasp this kind of experience.

Words can't describe it, but music can.

Elvis Costello hinted at something like this when he said: "Writing about music is like dancing about architecture." Words just can't convey the experience, you can only "get it" if you have the experience yourself.

It's no surprise that music lies at the heart of mankind's spiritual traditions: drum circles and ritual dancers, whirling dervishes, gospel choirs, all night raves, large outdoor festivals in the summer. It's all connected to the same thing.

That's the mysterious "intangible" in music. If you're lucky, when you're listening to a great live performance (this almost never happens when you listen to recorded music, unless the performer is a master mixer), and the music hits you just right, you can get this kind of experience as a listener. That's the sense of joy and rapt attention that people can feel at a live concert of any kind.

It's also possible to get this experience as a musician, and experience of joy and that you're part of something larger than yourself. Again, your intent has to be right, and the people you're playing with have to be right. You have to listen closely to each other. And you have to get your ego out of the way, as Carlos Santana says in his December 2008 Guitar Player interview with Michael Molenda, "Multi-Dimensional Miracles."

The nature of the ego is perhaps best described by the Tibetan Buddhists as that part of you that says it is "me." The ego is greedy, constantly grasping at this world, trying to make itself bigger and more grandiose. "All through the day / I me mine, / I me mine, / I me mine," as George Harrison once wrote. The two motivations of the ego are fear and desire. The ego wants to be better and have more, and it's deathly afraid of anything that contradicts its point of view.

The problem with the ego is that it's like noise in your consciousness that drowns out the silence you need to hear the other, deeper parts of you, that parts that can have that mystical experience. If, while you are playing, you can turn down the volume of your ego, and ignore its constant babble, you open yourself up to that joyful experience of transcendent reality in your own music.

Trying to get this experience of joy, where I feel like I'm in the groove, where nothing can go wrong and I'm only thinking about how to play notes that fit in with what the rest of the band, is a big part of why I continue to play guitar and make music. Sometimes it even feels transcendent.

If you've read this far, thanks for sticking with me. Reading the interview with Santana was like a recognition for me (I've thought about this stuff a lot), and I'm glad I had the opportunity to add to the discussion.

Crywolf, I totally understand where you are coming from, and I've been lucky enough to experience it a few times myself. Thanks for the post. --Twindaddy.

First off,let me say this has to be the most outstanding issue I can remember-the interviews and articles actually helped me musically in ways that the techno stuff hasn't. It's been very healing.
Now for my intangibles speech:
personally,I have to say "intangibles" would be the wonder & mystery of playing....like that sense of wonder as a little girl had to do with feeling the magic of Christmas Eve,seeing the tree lit up with the front room lamps off,in anticipation of the magic to come (Santas visit!) Halloween night also brought a different sense of wonder and anticipation of mystery.....the type of "you can feel it but you can't grab it-you can let yourself be wrapped in it but you can't pick it up and put it in a box type thing. To apply this musically would be my connecting with the Beatles as a child-it was like they were touched & transformed by the music they were playing....they were in tune with something much bigger than themselves. In my own playing & noodling about,I realise I have lost touch with that wonderment and have gotten overly hung up on what others will think,will they think I'm any good,being overly concerned with how many modes do I know,can I sweep pick,am I impressive technique wise-to the point I have intimidated myself into not playing nearly as often as I should. This is a hang up I developed in the 80's when I got all caught up in the players mind set of the day and forgot about wonder and being plugged into intangible sources. Musically speaking,I unwittingly divorced myself from why I picked up guitar in the first place to "fit in". What a mistake that was.
I'm now re learning the intangible concept of just "getting out of my own way" and let whatever comes out come out without editing as it's coming out. Tuning into my mindset when I was first learning takes me into that place,as well as how mesmerized I was when listening to groups & songs I loved when I was much younger.
Personally speaking,creating music is a very shamanic experience-you explore on your own,all with being guided by Spirit,totem,angel,whatever you feel most comfortable calling it. Lighting a candle,getting a potpourri pot simmering,wearing certain crystals or gem stones aid me in getting into a space where I can open the gates of creativity and align myself with the flow,if you will. Yes,I'm Pagan and have been for nearly 25 years. My choice of spirituality in this life flows into every aspect of my day to day living,and thanks to the Carlos interview,I see it needs to flow more into my guitar playing as well. Thanks for a safe place to say all this,and for the "ah-ha!" experience.

This is a great topic of conversation and one that is, sadly, rare in the world of guitarists (and musicians in general) - I appreciate all who have shared their thoughts here so far and will try as best I can to express a single, intangible aspect of making music with a guitar that has become important to me - listening for and embracing the unique music that only comes from you, from your soul, from the Infinite through you.

I will confess that I am as guilty as anyone in constantly seeking new music and guitarists to listen to - constantly consuming other people's music on a superficial level, rarely becoming intimate with it. I have also spent years trying to assimilate every style and technique that crosses my path. This has brought me a certain amount of financial and social (in "professional" music circles) security, but not much of the deep personal satisfaction that I am sure can only come from expressing the music that truly lives inside you.

I think at some point, probably very early, you have to start listening to the inside, to the music that is coming from the Infinite through you, and only you, yet still have a deep respect for others' creations without being pulled out of your orbit into theirs.

We can probably agree that we all respect the player who seems to be able to roll seamlessly from Stevie Ray licks to chicken picking runs to swinging Joe Pass lines; who can instantly pull up any tone out of his arsenal of gear and read notation like a machine; but our deepest love and life-long loyalty is for the musician whom we recognize immediately just from their sound, or phrasing, or melodic contours, their articulation, or that little lick that everybody steals but no one else could have created. When I hear B.B. King, or Carlos Santana, or Jeff Beck, or John Scofield, or Duane Allman, or any of the truly distinctive originals of guitar, I hear a musician playing who he is, playing what God created him to play, not trying to play everything and be everybody.

At some point in my musical life, I began to have a sinking realization that I had become essentially a guitar version of the famous impressionist Rich Little, being able to mimic, on a superficial but convincing level, many of my favorite guitarists. This thought did not make me happy.

These days, I am trying to weed out my garden and listen for those melodies that come out of my own head - yes, I still listen to a lot of great guitarists, old and new, but now, instead of reaching for my axe and coping a lick, I enjoy the music and admire the individuality of each player and humbly aspire to forge an identity of my own.

If you'll be quiet and patient, and just play without aim, letting your fingers move as they will, you might be surprised that something will come through that is yours, something that is not a lick you got from a book or magazine or DVD or copied from "Texas Flood" or "All Along the Watchtower" - that something is you, or better yet, God coming through you - and what could be better than that?!!

Max

PS: Please don't get me wrong, I am not advising that you don't expose yourself to new music and guitar techniques - I have learned sooo much from articles and lessons and album reviews in Guitar Player over the past 30 years, that I can't imagine how limited my musical world might be without it. But my view now is, how can I incorporate this new stuff into MY thing, MY style, and use it to express the music coming through me.

This is in response to the "Sharing Intangible Thoughts" sidebar page 102 of the Dec 2008 Guitar Player. Sorry to step on the toes of long-time posters.

Intangibles to me is hitting the musical spot that makes you stop when you hear it or makes your spine tingle, maybe makes you cry, whatever. It's almost always a very simple hook or riff, be it lyrical or musical, an eloquent turn of phrase, four or five notes played in a certain sequence. If it was more definable there would be computer programs doing it but it always comes down to the intangible of the context of the whole thing.

I teach guitar and have had to open myself up to listening to a lot of stuff I would normally toss off (Jonas Brothers, Fergie, Taylor Swift, etc.) but the truth is that there are some awesome songwriters out there who very frequently come close but only occasionally hit the true sweet spot where everything clicks and we get a transcendent piece of pop music. What I mean by that is that the whole feel of the song grabs you. Be it "Holiday in Cambodia" or "Hey Ya", "Bridge Over Troubled Water" or "A Day in the Life", they all have moments of goose bump inspiring height or euphoric joy or spiritual release.

You don't get much more intangible than in trying to find the common thread in the songs mentioned because it's anything but obvious. If it were less elusive it wouldn't work. It's a blend of melody and power and emotion that is almost always found by accident. You know it when you hear it.

Don't think. In us all there is a very quiet yet inconceivably powerful being that connects us to everything. It connects us not only to every molecule in our instrument but also those of the people in our audience and universe. If you think, the noise will cover up this beings voice. Everyone has it but sadly only a few listen to it. It's an absolutely liberating experience to allow this voice to speak. Players that touch your soul like Hendrix were able to make contact to this part of themselves. It's an unexplainable thing but if you listen very carefully you'll start to recognize it for yourself.

You must submit all of your ego and direct your attention, not your mind, into the feelings that are coming from your body. The essence of who you are is inside that feeling. It's silence and the feeling of complete satisfaction and connection with all are what connect you to the devine. These things aren't achievable by thinking and even trying to describe it is a paradox. The player with no mind that watches the notes pour forth like a cat watching a mouse hole is one that will connect with the intangible.

This connection will be felt by everyone around you. Your audience. Your bandmates. They won't be able to explain why but they will have no doubt that they've experienced something magical. This is what makes the difference between a master and a practitioner. You aren't making music, you ARE the music. And you aren't playing with your hands, you're playing with your entire body. No matter how hard you try to play something impressive or moving with your mind it won't happen. Thought is not what makes it happen. Observing the still and powerful presence within is. Everyone reading this will have listened to this voice before and may not have realized it.

So each practice session might involve some technical practice for the physical body but more importantly will involve observing this inner silence.

This was a great article and points out the typical "forest for the trees" trap that lots of players fall into. He's really talking about a kind of Zen-like state of mind and the ability to connect emotionally and wholly with what you're doing at the moment you're playing it. I know for myself, that I'm constantly chasing that experience of playing where time stands still, it's passing, but you're not aware of it, because you're plugged into the stream. Something bigger than you. This is what hooks you at some point in the beginning. Everything else that you learn is just to try and get back to that state of grace.

Well said Gil

I'm all for the "Zen-like state of mind" etc. - and have had my own creative moments.. but you then usually have to go back and edit it later, don't you?

Assuming you want the audience to hear quality product.

Oh boy... reading some of the post remind me of politics.
Some just need a venue like this to demonstrate how clever, witty
and intelligent they are... wow so impressive.. why not relax that blistering supermind and have a beer.
Anyway I was born & raised in Oakland, yes in the hood.
The poor thing, you know the story. So in my efforts to make a decent living I became self-employed as a Contractor. Any of you know how much time that takes? Well, long story short.. I have little time for my music. Hasn't stopped me, just hindered
my ability to compete with guys who play 8 hrs a day, I'd be lucky to get 8 hrs in a month. So with that, I never learned technique, theory etc. Hell I'm lucky I remember the strings... it's
E A D F G A S just kidding. The point being almost everything I've done is from within. (I feel the eyes rolling already... to bad, your loss) Some say my sound is very much like Carlos. Well I have never read a single sentence on how to play like Carlos, I will admit he is my top idol growing up, we were in a Hispanic community there. Since an intangible is just that, how can one put it in words? Describing it is like digging a tunnel and working your way up the floor to enter a house. To do it is as simple as walking through the front door.
So the best I can do (and the reason for all the background) is
If you think of absolutely nothing... nothing is what you get.
But I have no music theory so it's easier for me, but if you think of nothing but your song, release and let go of what got you here to this point, open a door that challenges the past and future you become the infinite now. That is where my solos come from. Or the best description I can give anyway. But since I have no training and little time the only reason I can give that I sound something like Carlos(careful now this is still my idol) The only explanation is that we pull chops from the same source. Simple, not complicated at all. See you in the Zone Carlos, Love your work my friend. You always inspires.
http://www.myspace.com/alzada http://www.promofm.com/alzada
Thanks

Intangibles:
I have been down hearted for most of my 40 years here on earth. I used to imagine myself playing and showing off on the guitar and that got me nowhere! I am my worst critic. My playing would lead me to show timing on myself which made put my axe down pre-maturely in dipair. What I do now is pick up my guitar and play! I don't think about who is listening or hear those small voices from my mind telling me I should do this or could do that! I try to keep a recorder near or my Pro Tools ready for those times of creation. I never seem to remember those riffs or melodies that come from within. Playing from the heart is when I don't care what anybody thinks about my playing or my self torture critic.

In the end that's it, baby!

My best songs have been written when I let go of everything in our world and allow my heart and soul to conduct like a lightening rod and tap into a higher place.What emerges is a song and lyrics that are a gift from beyond.I have learned not to question this as it opens my heart to a bigger universe in daily life.

Have you ever heard someone say "God(or who/whatever intangible entity they care to name) gave me this song", and when you hear it, you wanna tell them, "Aw, man, don't blame Him(her/it) for THAT! YEEESH!"?

I have...

It is the structure of music itself that creates the intangibles. The chord progressions i learned as a young boy built the foundations for me to explore around with melody lines, bends and learning to transfer the inspirations i was experiencing into notes that transcended beyond scales and patterns that took me into a deeper emotional level with the guitar.

Having now played for 40 years, the hours of hunkering over the little teisco del ray as a kid and the years of listening and learning and constantly being challenged have created a stucture in my life that lets me explore the intangibles.
It is my therapy, my outlet. The joys, the sadness, the tragedy and the general pressures of life have helped shape and take me into higher heights musically.

Socially we feel like we have to keep it somewhere between the white lines. As a guitarist we can rage, cry and sing and bear our soul and let the structure support our passion.

Winds of change constantly affect us but it is the wind that lets us soar. When the rhythm section is grooving in the pocket, the wind begins to blow and thats when
we can rise above everything and let all of the years and tears, successes and failures disappear beneath us as we spread our wings and fly from the heart and soul. This is where the intangibles are.

For me, music / art is a spiritual quest, period. They
are the same thing. When you start to ask where inspiration comes from
then you are dealing with spirtual matters. The breath, flowing
naturally, allowing that energy to work through you, these are matters of
the spirit. You can see that most people these days refrain from talking
about this, but there was a time when it was much more open. Something
happened maybe around 1980 that we're still dealing with. I can't say
what exactly or when exactly but something shifted. They tried to stop
the progress of all these different musics. Jazz, rock, pop, all were
rewarded for stopping their progression. Money got big, keeping it safe
and marketable got big and the media kept up the pressure. People started
talking about maintaining traditions. Music that always was about
progress was now told to stop, no more forward motion. And when you stop
you no longer are spiritual. Spirit doesn't stop, at least I can't see
any evidence of spirit stopping. Where does nature come to a stop? All
is morphing, pushing forward, shedding skin, eating one another. To play
along with creation, in real time, is to play beyond yourself. You try
and get beyond your own judgement so that things can happen. We always
follow inspiration. Inspiration leads the way and we always follow. But
if we can get right up to it, then anything can happen. To me, nothing is
more exciting than playing something for the first time. Every situation
has a flow, an energy, and maybe the best we can do is ride with that. So
now I live and it's like dipping into a stream for water the way I play or
the way I write. I try not to think too hard or judge too harshly what
comes out. I try and allow it to happen rather than forcing it. And I
believe that if we can exist in that place we'll never run out of ideas,
never run out of energy.

This is my method for getting into the zone:

First, I remember a time when I felt peaceful: I imagine what I was seeing at that time, recall what I was hearing, feel what I was feeling and notice if there were any tastes or smells associated with it.

I intensify these feelings and allow them to expand as if they could spread through my nerves and veins into every cell of my body.
While maintaining this sensation, I consider what it will be like to be in this state while playing my guitar: My presense, my sensitivity to other musicians and my connection to the audience. Knowing all the while I can do these things from this space of peace.

If I get distracted from the present moment, I gently bring my attention back to these sensations.

The intangible for me is achieved when my playing takes on the quality of my dreams at night… specifically, my flying dreams. It is that quality that can linger for hours, or take place in one quick moment. I will suddenly find myself in the air, brought to a consciousness by a ringing note, or the strings on my acoustic sizzling on the fretboard with a chord that I have never played or heard—but it works.

Gear has very little to do with this higher state, nor does any identifiable frame of mind. I can be depressed or joyous, or playing my banged-up student guitar my mother bought me over thirty years ago when I was seven.

Speaking of all those years, it took a long time before I was able to reach the place in my life where technique and tone took a backseat to letting go. Early years of practicing theory, then learning to set all of that aside. Once I began to play for nothing but the joy, it became clear that my goal with playing, no matter the circumstances, was to reach the point in which my ears and fingers became the vehicles for my waking dreams. The feeling is that of an awareness that is only connected to reality in that the physical is present in body and instrument, but I am otherwise disembodied. I can almost feel myself floating over the rolling hills that are always below my feet in my dreams at night—dipping and rolling beneath my feet.

Moments of spirituality are available everywhere, but this is a fleeting sort. To paraphrase Keith Richards (albeit badly), I am just the antennae, and whatever is out there floating around, comes to me when it is ready. I am simply a conduit for these moments, and they just so happen to feel an awful lot like those moments during the wee hours in which I am out of my own way, and the dreams are in charge.

Months can often go by where I am just plucking, not really getting anyplace, then out of the blue, one of these moments will take hold, and off I go. When I was younger, I would fall into a rut, wondering if a new pedal or even more playing (I seldom practice) was the missing piece. I’ve long since let go of that mindset, knowing that when it comes, it will come, and it will be pure bliss.

Of course, a lot of volume helps.